William Shakespeare, Poker Night, and Destiny

I always know I'm in trouble whenever my father-in-law calls me. Especially if the call is before 9 a.m. or after 9 p.m. He doesn't call to chit-chat.

Larry called at 8:15 this morning telling me to be at his house at 7 p.m. All the boys are coming over, he said. That means it's poker night. It's time to speak as men speak; to refer to each other using only last names, their hometown, or other crude nicknames.

I'm really not a big gambler. I figure that every month, I have x amount of money earmarked for entertainment. It's usually books or cd's, but I guess this month it's poker.

When I was growing up, I figured all poker games were like what I saw on M*A*S*H. A mountain of chips, cash, and watches and wedding bands in the pot; cards were always hot; winning hand was always a full house or a flush. In reality, not even close. It's a bunch of jerkies who can't decide whether to raise $.25 or $.50; trying to bluff with a pair of threes; phone calls from the wife pleading not to lose the baby's lunch money.

So I retroactively made Date Night last night. Melissa's mother, Rhonda, is visiting from Waco. Additionally, Rhonda's sister and brother-in-law (Sharon and Rod) live in town, as does Brooke (my sister-in-law). So last night, the entire family loaded up and went to see Twelfth Night performed by the Junior Players, a rather talented troupe from local magnet schools.

Being wholly unfamiliar with the play, I had to beef up on basic plot lines so I could intelligently fake my way through the play and hide my ignorance- what I do most of the time anyway.

After having seen the play, the only way to describe it is a mixture of Three's Company, The Big Sleep, and When Harry Met Sally. It's a romantic comedy where men play women's roles, women play men's roles, identities get confused, double entendres cause mass confusion, and plot lines are often distorted and left unresolved. The ending is a mixture of optimism and anguish; near-strangers marry, true loves are led to different lives, and the village idiot becomes mayor (please, no Bush 43 jokes).

The play also goes by the title What You Will. I'm not sure if Shakespeare actually comes from the Free Will school of thought when it comes to matters of the heart or if he is a believer in Destiny. He seems to say that the two are often confused for each other and are competing forces. The mind controls Free Will, the heart Destiny. Some listen to one, some to the other.

Being a big fan of the Tudor-Stuart period, I couldn't help but think about art's role in society. There is a reason the Era of Elizabeth is know for its classic literature and the Bible we use is called The King James Bible. It's because Henrys VII and VIII were too busy fighting off the foreigners, beheading barren wives, building a dynasty.

And playing Texas Hold Em when the boys came over.

So, Shakespeare, write about that.